


A blind dance

by KadLimibren



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dancetale, Despair, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other, Tragedy, dance, spectator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 12:48:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6658402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KadLimibren/pseuds/KadLimibren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tragedy seek for its conclusion, Sans and Chara finally confront themselves, a skeleton take his final dance and a troublesome child let the string move them. Enjoy your show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A blind dance

What is worse for a bird than to not being able to fly? As if a man were born for not being able to breath, living without the possibility to fullfill their very own purpose. A cruel fate but some would say that some were born without legs, or arms, and still found a purpose in their life, as such, what could be worse?  
Some will then argue than knowing the taste of happiness and then loosing it was definitely the most difficult pain to feel. It could almost sound like an addiction, as if loosing this pill full of happiness meant that no one couldn’t bear to live on anymore. If a passion, a goal in life, a purpose is crushed in front of someone eyes, could anyone say they are living anymore? The heart still move but the HEART move no more.

What is worse for a dancer than to not being able to dance? If a lazy skeleton would take a minut to think of an answer, he would say certainly say a line like this one:

"Encountering a bad child."

Maybe he was lying, hiding behind his rigid and usual smile some other meanings. But as for the spectator, a person who were able to grasp the meaning of dance for a monster, this answer could actually show sense. As Sans himself never danced, not even once, during the child road. Even when Frisk would lead the eyes and hearts of monster to peace, Sans wouldn’t dance until they went off the underground. And even here, the spectator was unable to know if Sans ever danced with someone.

If dancing is a way to communicate with other, if dancing is way of showing how you live... Someone who doesn’t dance must certainly be lazy, a simple answer than would explain the lack of energy coming from a living skeleton.  
But to the spectator eyes, maybe there was an other answer, a truth that couldn’t be shown, dark, sad, full of bitterness. After all, a monster who doesn’t dance can also be seen as someone who... Feel alone and has no will to live.

A blunt assumption, but only the spectator can find the truth, the answer. Only the person buying the ticket to see hell can reveal the shadow, make every lie disapear in front of a cold and eternal truth. So here you are, spectator, putting the money that is your time into the hand of fates to see what can happen when a lazy skeleton finally dance. To find words when there is silence, to find light when there is nothing, to find a heart when there is emptyness.

A sad story about a child forced to be a monster and a monster forced to be killer so you can finally satisfy your own thirst for curiosity. A sad story where a spectator is cast away from getting closer to the peoples they love to the point where they would rather watch a dance to the death than satisfying their eyes to an endless warm ballet.

The story you chose. And now, the curtains rises.

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

It was almost conforting to feel the warmth of the sun warming up the fresh air filling the whole hallway. Bright shades of yellow scattered on the center, gorgeous marble pilar casting away their shadows on the whole scene as the stained-glasses almost felt like multiples pair of eyes, pieces of history, judging the only two remaining person in a world falling appart. The birds sings their innocences as a heavy silence finally walk on the ground, soon making this hallway feel like a world of its own. Gods clashing for their losses.

A child and a skeleton encounter each other.  
There is smiles on their face.  
There is no more warmth in the air.  
No more pun to be shared.  
No words to be heard.  
Only the ugly feeling of murder.

Appearing from the shadow, the skeleton don’t let a word come out of his mouth, his usual grin slowly showing the signs of tension within him. White hands hidden in the pocket of his hoodie, facing the ground, nothing except his broken smile were to be seen. No introduction, it isn’t needed, words never convey feelings better than dance but the person in front of him... They don’t dance to communicate, their dance is one of rampage, murder and suffering. A mute dance facing a deaf listener. After all, a skeleton has no ears.

But for the first time, it isn’t the usual lazy feeling that surround Sans. Despite not moving, despite looking like one of the pillar arround him, the heart in front of him slowly begin to beat quicker. The child know that something is coming, Sans know that the child is expecting him and still, he doesn’t care. He had no more partner to dance with, he had no more reason to dance. Worse, he had loose all passion about dancing the moment he discovered his fate was only a toy in some god hands.

But the person in front of him wasn’t the god. They tried to act like the devil itself.  
As his empty eyes, black and hollow holes, finally rise to see them, ready to mock his opponent and begin their endless circle, something suddenly hit him.  
A gear beginning to turn, the machine that is his soul failing to close itself perfectly as his eyes keep him from being blind. The reason of his surprise was simply the look of the person in front of him.  
Their barefoots and barelegs were covered by sweat, sign of their battle against every monster they killed, white skin stained by bruises, nastier ones and cuts. Their green shirts glued to their skin after all of their movement, heavy breaths coming out of their lungs as their maddened smile and restless eyes were directed toward the lazy bone.

They had no care for their own body, the child being far more of a living mess than the monster they were facing. As his eyes failed to ignore them any longer, Sans noticed the broken nails, the ripped skin at the tips of their fingers, the odd color covering one of their wrist. Almost like a broken toy, used without care but still able to going forward. Until they break, until they are stopped.   
For Sans, it doesn’t matter, his brother being dead, every monster being slaughtered, timeline being manipulated. He doesn’t care anymore, saying he feel empty would be an understatement, if he wanted to be sarcastic, he would say that wanting to feel dead inside is actually quite normal for a skeleton. But truth is, anything can act a fuel for life. Even anger, even sadness, even despair. So, like the child, he would make his last stand, the last dance who will decide the survivor of an empty world. Until the ‘last’ become the ‘previous’ and a new ‘last’ appear.

And now, the last made its bebutes.

 

A small movement from his left shoulder, followed by a smooth movement from one of his legs, and the skeleton slowly began to move in a weird and dynamic way. He wasn’t even truly moving from his spot, but soon before the child could realize, their eyes couldn’t really grasp the form of his movement. Eyes were deceived as the chubby, lazy skeleton was suddenly moving his body as if gravity and reason had no law over it. Swiftly, his legs were moving on the ground as if his own body became a wave throw by a calm ocean, still not moving, the rythm entering his soul.

The child fell into the groove, their toes lifting their feets as they slowly advance toward him, contrary to the skeleton, they move their hips toward him, their back falling behind, head slamming backward. Then, they began to turn their hips around, making sure their legs and upper body follow the movement as their head still move in a speedy manner. Soon, the devil dance around death itself, the reaper not even trying to move from his point as their bodies slowly come closer to each other. The tension rise and as the heat slowly fill their heads, the two puppets don’t have to watch each other to know that both of them are hearing silent lyrics filling the air.

It was almost like a tacit agreement, the singer was a voice coming from nowhere, it had no sound but still they could hear it, it had no affiliation or soul but the lyrics were harsh and brutal. It wasn’t a music for one of them, it was a music screaming the rage and pain. As the blood was set to appear, Chara and Sans could faintly try to listen to the words:

Monster and humans. Pawn incarcered in a sanitorium. Blind to the string strangling their fates. Clashing for blood at the first date. Dancing with madness, dancing into the darkness, flirting with death until they are done. It is the tale of those under hope, it is the dance of those above salvation. Now we wait until their damnation.

The words were said snappily, only short sentence were made as the meaning of them was the one doing the real blow. Angry, bitter, full of rage, the voice inside their heads tried to painfully follow the infernal rythm set by Sans. The music of their dance calling for a ride to hell, Chara bodies was only a few centimeter away from Sans. Red eyes having a grasp of a blazing blue flame, white teeths encountering a wrathful smile, the slaughter was set and finally, their next movement became an attempt to break each other.

The movement was as fluid as its purpose was deadly, Chara’s knife almost slicing the neck of the comical dancer while they moved forward, searching to push Sans back but as their legs moved, the skeleton was already bending backward, their arm missing him by a large margin.  
Putting his left hand on the ground while his head almost touched the floor, perfectly keeping the bridge, it was almost as if his chubby appearance didn’t matter as Sans immediatly went back on his feet by pushing his body with the same hand. The other one swiftly summoned bones toward the place Chara stopped, a sharp move but not fast enough, the devil suddenly letting themselves roll on the ground, their body crawling as if they were possessed.

Sans still looked the same, almost unfazed by their antics, his blue eyes set on them as if he was trying to understand the oddball killer despite the skeleton not even trying to listen to them in the first place. The two dancer were slowly setting the pathetic theater of their downfall, despite the talent and uniqueness of their own dance, they had no harmony and the beginning of the show proved this fact well enough.  
Despite the danger, Chara slowly began to crawl under the ground, naked knees ripping themselves of the floor as their elbows moved slowler and slower are they got near them.  
When Sans was almost 20 centimeter away from their grip, the skeleton slowly began to move his head, his neck quickly making circular movement, as if someone else was pulling the strings of his body while the skeleton began to walk back. Chara observed without grasping the meaning of his action, he was casually dodging them and yet it didn’t even seem like he was the one moving his body. To their eye, the skeleton rythm was impossible to grasp, the frustration of this situation lead them to rush without caution. Lifting one of their legs on the air with ease, Chara grasped the sole of their feet with their bare hands, holding the position as Sans began to evaluate how the move would follow but the devil didn’t gave him any opportunity, throwing the ankle of their feet down to the ground while trying to get his head with it.

With no results as the skeleton again turned his whole body one step outside their range without any problem, his unpredictable movement matching Chara speed flawlessly. As Chara body tried to handle the pain from the feet colliding violently with the ground, Sans sweeped their legs with one arm movement, leaving gravity as the sole culprit for their incoming pain. A rough sound greeted Sans, followed by some words that the skeleton saw as unsuitable for any normal kids, still, the result was welcomed by some quick footsteps as the pun-lover put some distance between them. Chara’s bloody skin was bathed in sunshine, the spotlight summarizing the outcome of many battles, their will working on transcending a body who had been scratched, broke, bite, frozen and burn. And yet, holding his revenge inside his guts if he could have some, Sans shined more than her; the white color of his bones, reflected by his eye’s light, felt as if the purest ivory was displayed on the dance floor.

Heavily breathing, he closed his eyes: “I would have proposed you mercy but you seem to be a little deaf so... Guess I should just give you death instead.”

The pun didn’t came with a playful tone, the blue eyes disapeared to let hollow hole as the last picture visible of Sans, letting only the shape of his body visible in the dark. Chara was feeling off of their groove, the pain twisting their fake smile as their eyes painfully followed the apparition of blue bones all round them. The time was up, and now, after reset and reset of despair, after empty results from countless research, after endless day of giving up, Sans danced. One last time. As the world was shaking, as reality was being swallowed in darkness, as their fates was toyed by unknow hands, the skeleton opened himself for a last ride. The outcome didn’t matter, the only truth was this: Chara and him were both here and one of them would die, if not both.

Why would he cry, why would he give up in front of the apocalypse when he could give it a last middle finger before being crush? His face didn’t showed any hatred or sarcastic look, Sans looked focused, alive, his fire reached Chara, he felt her heat, he felt her rage, he felt everything about her. Yes, they would never be able to connect but still, he would try. And a part of him was sure that Chara would try, even a little, even if they wouldn’t understood themselves.

Blue waves of bones was softly turning around him, every time Sans moved his arms around his head, almost mimicking a woman trying to attract the eyes of a man by hiding and revealing her face centimeter after centimeter, some blues bones would move in an other tempo, trying to crush Chara as they moved in an incomprehensible pattern. And as soon as Chara would try to figure the choregraphy, Sans would then dance around the hall, moving backward and suddenly turning his waist in the other side, his bones pushing Chara’s weight against a pillar, then against an other.  
But Chara’s body always found some balance, her barefeet taking position on the cold and polished stone of the pillars, jumping back and rushing again, turning around, mimicking an other kid dance as they seemed like a ballerina. But Sans didn’t become mad, he didn’t felt emotionless either, he just answered to Chara’s feelings by coming closer, opening his hands toward them, almost asking to grab theirs fingers so they could dance together. Then he would slowly, very slowly, walk back, two skull-head appearing on each of side and firing lasers that almost made the wall behind them explode, Sans still shaking his body, jumping with little strengh at each step. But Chara didn’t blink, their head quickly lowered, their legs spreading themselves so their whole weight would fell down, their knee finally touching the ground as they leaned themselves forward, the two beam almost burning their back. But death was merely an accessory in their dance, the real actor was their motivation, et now, Sans and Chara were DETERMINED.

And finally... Chara stood up, Sans closed the distance, their hand softly touched, the fingers locked themselves, their bodies moved toward each other, Chara’s hand moved the knife, Sans palm directed the bones, their eyes settled this promise of killing each other and finally... They closed the distance, the steel and the bone rushed toward each other, death waved its hand and for the first time, a skeleton and a troublesome child smiled sincerely.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

And now the curtain close itself, your eyes seeking a conclusion but your heart maybe already found some peace. Maybe your mind is puzzled, fishing for answer but if you were once a friend, once a person filled with love and not with LOVE, if you ever wished to see their hands taking yours and leading your step toward the happiest dance of them all, then my friend...

Should I say, dear spectator, if you really wish for this dream, for this though, actually resting in your own hands, to be true, then, you would refrain from seeking a conclusion, let the curtain closed and would gently go away as this show is over.  
You witnessed the dance you seeked.

The world screamed in agony so you would see it, but now, let it rest, close your eyes, and go back on happier time, on some gentle opera and spectacle with an ending you can actually see without breaking the things you love.  
Don’t make the same mistake as a narrator my friend.  
For the foolish one who gave you such an opportunity, the weight of bearing the sin from this crual ending would never fade, the world died in their hands and it would be a shame if yours would stand as red as their.

After all...

Who want to hold the hand of a muderer?

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if the end or the general tone of this fiction is confusing, as I wrote it so you, the reade, would also have a conversation while reading this.
> 
> I am just deeply tortured by Chara's in Dancetale, and Chara/Sans is a relationship I really love to developp in differents ways and outcome, so I kinda indulged myself.
> 
> This fic is also a huge thank you/gift to the creator of Dancetale: Teandstars, and a gift for the damn wolf that make my head go crazy every day: Lang.


End file.
